"Sure we can," Nina said. "Besides, we're investigating kitchens, and we haven't seen hers yet."
"That Maize kid did it," April said with conviction. "End of story."
"I'm not so sure," Gretchen said. "But I'm really through traipsing around. We didn't sign on to get blown to bits. Our job was over when the window exploded and the display disintegrated."
April laughed. "She's just as dramatic as you," she said to Nina.
Nina laughed along, considering that a compliment. Gretchen glared at her friends. "And I was almost macheted to death by Bernard's wife."
"Macheted isn't a proper verb," Nina said. "But I get your drift. Some people aren't cut out for extreme adventure."
"You weren't the one facing that wacko, with no place to run."
"Trust me," Nina cooed. "We're only going to peek at Britt's kitchen while we visit. What's the harm in that?"
"If I recall correctly, you said the same thing right before Bernard's wife tried to butcher me."
"The cards were clear; the quest must continue," Nina said. "If you aren't up to it, I'll carry on without you."
"I'll help because we're friends." April said. "But the kid did it."
"I heard," Nina said, "that killers who use poison usually get away with their crimes unless they continue to poison victims. Then they start leaving trails."
"Like Arsenic Anna," Gretchen agreed. "I've been reading about her, and the psychology behind killers like her. Arsenic Anna was a psychopath, and according to what I'm reading, psychopaths aren't insane. They kill because they lack a conscience."
"That qualifies as crazy in my book," April said.
"Arsenic Anna maintained her innocence right up until the very end when they threw the switch. But she wrote letters that weren't opened until after the execution. In them, she explained how she killed those old men. Rat poison in oysters, in orange juice. She even tried to kill a woman who lived near one of her victims by poisoning an ice cream cone."
"Do you think a psychopath murdered Charlie?" Nina asked.
"I don't know," Gretchen admitted. "That's why we should stay out of it."
"Better yet," April said. "Don't accept any food or drink from anyone."
"Here poochies," Nina called. "Let's go. Should we drop you at home, Gretchen?"
Gretchen sighed, remembering that there was safety in numbers. "I'll come along."
"She's back in," April said, grinning.
30
Melany Gleeland has a truly horrible secret. It's almost bigger than she can handle by herself, which is why she has to get away from Phoenix-any way she can, by any means available.
Whatever it takes.
Melany fingers the knot of the black do-rag in her hand. Do-rags. Everybody's doing do-rags: cancer patients hiding bald heads during chemo treatments, hip-hop groups, bikers to prevent helmet head. Black is the hot color. You've seen one, you've seen them all. Her biker boyfriend wears one under his helmet. This could be his. She can't get out of this city fast enough. She hates everything about it: the brown smog that hovers over Phoenix, breathing in toxins right along with oxygen, unbelievable pollen counts, new allergies assaulting her sinus passages daily. Then there's the blinding, unrelenting heat from the sun, no shade anywhere, the weather forecasters predicting a significant change in temperature, as if a drop of four degrees is national news.
And her mother. If she doesn't leave right now, she might do something to hurt the witch. Like set her hair on fire while she's bent over her precious kiln. Give her head a blast of flammable hair spray, and whoof. Up she goes. Problem solved in one big incendiary moment.
She really hates her mother's perfectly symmetrical face.
Melany is homely, according to Mommy Dearest, because her features aren't balanced properly. Look at Melany's face from one side, then the other, and you can see the problem. Symmetry is the secret to real beauty. Draw a line down the middle of your face. The sides should match.
How unfortunate for Melany.
Poor girl.
31
The first step to becoming a doll maker is deciding what type of doll to cast. That determines what mold to use. Modern dolls are created from sculpted molds. Then they are finished off with contemporary clothing and synthetic wigs. Antique reproduc- tions are cast from existing antique dolls. Every effort is made to re-create the look of antique painting. Costumes for antiques are natural fibers such as silk or cotton, and wigs are mohair or human hair. Make your selection, and let the fun begin.
– From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch Britt Gleeland had converted a wing of her home into a dollmaking studio. Gretchen didn't see any dolls on display when she walked through the living area, which she considered unusual for a doll collector. She did manage to get a glance at the kitchen and saw wallpaper in colors that seemed to match the unknown room box, but she was too far away to see the pattern. She had to find an opportunity to get closer.
Nina jabbed her in the ribs and raised her brow. She'd seen, too.
"I'm so excited to be here," April gushed when she saw the dollmaking workshop. She headed for a long table in the center of the room, which was filled with tiny projects in various stages of completion.
"My class meets every Thursday," Britt said. "I have seven students at the moment, but they are in the middle of their projects. It would be impossible for you to catch up at this point."
"When does your next class begin?" April plopped down and dreamily fingered the miniature pieces.
"In a few weeks. I like to have a full table of students before I start. Why don't I call you?"
April barely heard her. She was completely mesmerized by her surroundings.
Gretchen had to admit that the miniatures were extremely captivating. She'd devoted her career to restoration of fullsized antiques, but she understood April's fascination. Someday she might take a miniature dollmaking class herself.
"Who would like coffee?" Britt asked. Every hair in her twist was right where it should be.
Nina cast a sly eye at Gretchen. "We all would love some," she said. "I'll help you in the kitchen."
"No need; it's right here. Come sit." Sure enough, a carafe filled with coffee and all the trimmings sat on a round table to the side of the worktable.
Gretchen and Nina exchanged warning glances. Now what? Britt would expect them to drink the coffee. Gretchen solved the problem by offering to pour, after which the women watched Britt take small sips. Once she had drunk half of the coffee in her own cup, the others joined in. While they chatted, Gretchen tried to think of anything that might be missing from the coffee supplies so she could follow Britt into the kitchen to retrieve them. But the doll maker had been thorough, even including honey, rich cream, and raw sugar on the service tray.
Gretchen was determined to get a good look at the kitchen. "Excuse me, please," she said. "May I use your bathroom?"
"Of course; it's right over there." Britt waved toward the back of the studio.
Foiled again, Gretchen went through the motions now required of her and entered the bathroom. The room was starkly functional, designed for Britt's students, not for her personal use. None of the cabinets contained potions or poisons.
When Gretchen came out, the coffee klatch had moved to the kiln. "This kiln can reach well over two thousand degrees," Britt said to an impressed audience. "The control is mounted on the wall over near the door to keep it safe from the heat. I lock the kiln for safety when the class isn't using it."
"It looks like a big washtub," Nina said.
"Like an old-fashioned washing machine," April agreed. Nina made a move to lift the cover.